


Welcome and Unwelcome Both

by the_rck



Series: House of Sulfur and Mercury [9]
Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Family, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Vague references to past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Luke has a talk with his second child.





	Welcome and Unwelcome Both

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "May" by Geoffrey G. O’Brien.
> 
> This one is a lot fluffier than most of the rest of the stories in the series.
> 
> Luke still has problems with pronouns.
> 
> This is part of a branching series of AUs, all of which start from something different happening after Luke left Merlin imprisoned at the end of Trumps of Doom. The list of stories and details of when/how they diverge from each other is [here](https://somethingdarker.dreamwidth.org/36076.html) on DreamWidth. This story is directly in sequence after We Are Where We Began.

Beren never asked me awkward questions. I don’t know what za guessed or didn’t, but Beren never asked. Gale was twenty five when za asked. 

I was making a shelf. I could have done it with magic, but there was something that appealed to me about using hand tools to make something both functional and attractive. Right at that moment, I was sanding, doing a last smoothing before staining, rather than using anything sharp, and I think Gale had deliberately timed it that way.

“Dad--” Za looked like a human woman right then, but I’d had long enough to get used to the idea that my children weren’t human that I no longer tried to wedge them into human categories.

I set down the sandpaper and looked directly at Gale. All three of our children knew that my attention was theirs if they wanted it. Merlin might work at things that required locked doors and unbroken concentration, but I generally didn’t do anything that couldn’t be interrupted, so I was the parent all three turned to first.

I had thought Gale was too old to need me for anything any more, but za looked serious and as worried as za had about trying to figure out why no one was willing to help zan experiment with sex while also not being willing to tell zan no.

That was also not a problem Beren had had.

I smiled to let Gale know that za was welcome. “Is this going to take long enough that we should get food and some lemonade?”

Gale fidgeted. That was always a bad sign. “Can we talk privately?”

Was I going to have to give Merlin some sort of bad news? I tried to sound encouraging as I said, “As long as you haven’t tried to kill-- or succeeded in killing-- one of your siblings, I expect your mother will forgive you.”

Za didn’t smile.

I closed my eyes for a second. “You know the privacy part isn’t up to me, Gale.”

Gale looked around the room. “Please,” za said. Something in the way za said it told me that za had guessed that it mattered that I was the one member of the family who couldn’t ask for privacy.

I felt Ariyus start to pull back, and I suspected the others were going, too. “Wait,” I said. “I think this is going to need-- Well--” I looked at my second child. “Is this chocolate, ice cream, or booze?” I already suspected it was going to be all three, but no one was going to give me booze and privacy at the same time.

“All three,” Gale said. “I can bring those in.”

Right. I had forgotten. Za had traversed the Logrus, and Merlin had never barred any of his children from using their powers in his Ways.

“All right,” I said, “but let’s sit in the sun.” My workshop was airy and well lit, but if Gale was going to ask what I feared za might, I wanted trees and grass and open air.

And maybe za wouldn’t ask.

“Are you sure?” Ghostwheel wasn’t asking me, and I was almost completely certain he wasn’t asking about whether or not Gale was sure about wanting privacy.

Gale frowned. “I will talk to _you_ later. Depending on what Dad says, we may or may not have words.”

Which meant that this really was going to be the conversation I’d been dreading for thirty years.

“The only reason not to,” Gale said, “is if you really think I’m not safe.” Zans face told me that za had no doubts about being safe but that za also knew that Ghostwheel hesitating meant something.

“Ghostwheel,” I said. “We can’t get out of it that way.” He was a little unpredictable sometimes, so I added, “And telling Merlin right now will only make the whole thing harder. I don’t think Merlin… could have this conversation.” I wasn’t altogether sure I could. I’d started thinking it wouldn’t ever happen.

A few moments later, Gale said, “As far as I can tell, they’re all gone.”

“I really would rather sit on the porch.” I headed for the doorway. I hadn’t bothered to put an actual door inside the frame. It never got particularly cold in this part of the Ways, and the porch roof mostly kept the rain from blowing in.

I didn’t so much like closed doors. Even now.

As za settled on the bench beside me, Gale said, “Do you still sleep with a nightlight, Dad?”

I looked off over the trees and tried to find it in me to lie. “Even now,” I admitted at last, “I’m not sure I could manage without.”

We were both silent for a while before Gale nudged my arm and offered me a large glass.

I took it and studied the contents. “Either this is mild, or you think I’m going to need to be sloshed to talk about this.” I took a sip.

The contents were pretty damned potent.

“For someone I know so well, I know damn all about you,” Gale said. “I just… I don’t want to go on the way that Beren does, not looking at anything inconvenient.”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Inconvenient? I suppose that’s one way to put it.” I wanted to ask if za was really sure za wanted to know.

But za wouldn’t be asking if za hadn’t guessed the general outline.

“Clayre and Gramble look kind of like you.” Za didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Everyone’s pretty clear, though, that Mom is their father.”

It wasn’t quite a question. “They’re my brother and sister. Half.” I was pretty sure za would assume, but I felt it had to be said. “I should have thought. They learned shapeshifting late. Our mother didn’t approve of it.” When za didn’t respond, I hesitated then added, “But that’s not what you want to ask, is it?”

Gale sighed, and I heard zan drinking. “If you wanted to leave, Mom wouldn’t let you.”

I emptied my glass before I answered. “No.”

“Because of your mother?”

I’d gotten used to blaming my mother for many things by then. Knowing that she was dead made me feel less guilty about it. I could blame her, and Gale might leave things at that. Maybe. “It’s not a story where anyone shows to good advantage, Gale. All of us did really shitty things.”

Za leaned on my shoulder, and I put an arm around zans shoulders the way I had when za had been a child.

“Your Uncle Martin thought it would be Beren asking the questions. When za never did, I thought… Well, yes. I should have remembered that the three of you are different. I’m usually better at people than that. Except with Merlin when it mattered.” I looked at my empty glass and wished that I was really feeling the alcohol. I cleared my throat. “I don’t regret any of you, you know. Other things--” Many other things. “--yes, but never any of you.”

“I know, Dad. I’m not sure Beren does, but I do.”

I felt like I’d been gut punched. “Is that why za never asked?”

“I haven’t talked to Beren about it.” Gale’s tone told me that za had no intention of ever doing so. “Helveh hasn’t been outside yet. Za doesn’t have the… context. You know?”

I did. I gave myself a moment to consider how to angle my next comments. “It’s not just your mother,” I said at last. “I’m… technically an enemy of Amber. There’s a reason I’m… Luke and not who I was before.”

Za didn't ask, but I could tell that za wanted to know.

I gave myself a moment to pretend that I didn’t have to say it. “My parents called me Rinaldo.” My throat closed for a moment. I still grieved for both parents. “You’ve never heard of my mother. Her name was Jasra. My father was Prince Brand of Amber. I… was Helveh’s age when he died.”

I felt the change in zans body as za understood.

“Martin knows,” I said, “and Mandor. All of your construct siblings know, too. At least, I can’t imagine Ghostwheel not telling them.” My history with Merlin was one of Ghostwheel’s cautionary tales about biologicals lying and being difficult to understand. “Merlin doesn’t want Clayre and Gramble to know that za didn’t love their mother.” Using ‘za’ for Merlin was still hard for me, but I made the effort with the children. Most of the time. “There’s a reason za avoids them and hasn’t ever let them visit.”

“But Mom never thought about you not loving zan?” Gale sounded more bewildered than hurt, but the hurt was definitely there. “About us finding that out?”

I pulled zan in a little closer. I cleared my throat. “Merlin loves me. I don’t think…” It wasn’t exactly that I didn’t love Merlin. But me never having had a choice, not if I wanted to survive, really wasn’t anything my child needed to hear. “The part about us going to college together is true. That’s where we met and became friends. It’s just that it was all because I was supposed to kill him.” I turned my face to press it against Gale’s hair. After a moment, I was able to go on. “I was younger than you are. Merlin was probably ten times my age, but he never thought that I might-- Yes. I did, and it all comes from that.”

I could feel, as za leaned against me, the moment that za decided not to ask for more details. “What’s waiting for me out there is worse than the prospect of never leaving.” That was only mostly a lie. “Martin told me that, if Merlin let me go, he’d kill me. Mandor… Well, Mandor is…” If za didn’t understand that about Mandor, I wasn’t sure I could explain it.

“Uncle Despil and Ghostwheel both… explained Mandor.” Gale’s voice was a little distant. “And Dara and a lot of other people in the Courts.”

“Despil doesn’t know who I am.” I thought that Despil must suspect that I was more than a Shadowdweller who had caught Merlin’s fancy, but za didn’t have enough information to place me in the family tree.

Gale refilled my glass. Neither of us said anything more for about three glasses worth. If we hadn’t had the family metabolism, we’d have poisoned ourselves.

Eventually, za said, “Do you want to stay, Dad?”

I recognized it as an offer, and I hesitated. “Until Helveh goes,” I replied at last. I let myself dream about that for a moment. Then I closed my eyes and added, “Leaving won’t do much. Even if none of the others could--” And they could. “--Ghostwheel could always find me.”

“Leave Ghostwheel to me.” Gale’s voice sounded hard. Za put zans arms around me. “When Helveh goes. I won’t forget.”

It wasn’t what za meant, but I wouldn’t forget either.


End file.
